The Eternal Struggle.

You want a mocha. (Devil)

You don't want a mocha. (Angel)

You want an obscenely large mocha. (Devil)

You want an obscenely large loss this week at WW. (Angel)

You want an obscenely large hot throbbing mocha, with cream. (Devil)

*blushes* (Angel)

I'm going to Starbucks and I blame it all on the Lord.

That is all.

"Operator,, would you help me place this call..."

D and I were supposed to go out for a civil, we-still-get-along-just-fine dinner tonight, but he stood me up.

Jerk off.

So I called his voicemail and told him he was a shit. And then it occurred to me that I could have told him much more, as voicemail will continue recording until you stop talking.
With that revelation, I proceeded to fill D's voice mail in-box with the complete greatest hits of the late, great Jim Croce. From "Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown" to "Roller Derby Queen"--he now has it ALL.

Heh heh.

*shrugs*

If you have to go down as the crazy ex-girlfriend, you might as well pick the "crazy."

WW Post

( Friday's Food Log )